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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25595656">The Measure Of My Dreams</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/ineffablefool/pseuds/ineffablefool'>ineffablefool</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>INNWverse [5]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Good Omens (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>(he is fat and absolutely beautiful and that's the entire point of this fic thanks), (not mentioned but he is), (which is also the entire point of this fic), Alternate Universe - Human, Asexual Aziraphale (Good Omens), Asexual Crowley (Good Omens), Asexual Relationship, Chubby Aziraphale (Good Omens), Cuddling &amp; Snuggling, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), Internalized Fatphobia, Kissing, M/M, No Sex, No Smut, Self-Esteem Issues, Trans Crowley (Good Omens), fat positivity, little bit of swearing because Crowley, lots and lots and lots of comfort, lots and lots of fat positivity, soft(tm)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 05:41:24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,030</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25595656</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/ineffablefool/pseuds/ineffablefool</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>human!Crowley doesn't understand why human!Aziraphale has started pulling away, not emotionally, but physically, after years of being together.  Then he sees his beautiful angel's equally beautiful new stretch marks, and he understands.  An extremely large amount of asexual softness results.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>INNWverse [5]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1644742</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>94</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>282</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Ace-Friendly Aziraphale Belly Kiss Fics, Aspec-friendly Good Omens</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>The Measure Of My Dreams</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Hello!  Would anyone like some softness today?</p><p>I received (cw: lockdown mention, weight gain mention) <a href="https://ineffablefool.tumblr.com/post/620576849963204608/im-sure-im-not-the-only-one-thats-put-on-weight">this Tumblr ask</a> a couple of months ago from a very lovely and important anon.  This is the fic that was inspired by their question.  It features a human Aziraphale who is worried that maybe Crowley will feel differently about him now, and a human Crowley who absolutely, positively feels zero percent different.  It takes place in the same universe as my accidental novel of a human AU, <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/20936816">If Not Now, When</a>, and happens three or four years after the end of INNW, <b>so it could be considered a spoiler.</b>  If you haven't read INNW but would still like to read this story, though, that's fine!  Just keep in mind, Crowley is trans, Aziraphale is fat, and they love each other very much.</p><p><b>There is some internalized fatphobia here</b>, and some use of the word "fat" that is not positive (but almost all of it is extremely positive and loving).  Please keep yourselves safe. ❤️</p><p>I took almost two months to write this, sometimes a sentence or two at a time.  Wonderful humans <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/hope_in_the_dark/works">hope_in_the_dark</a>, <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/southdownsraph/pseuds/southdownsraph/works">southdownsraph</a>,  and <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_pen_is_mightier/works">the_pen_is_mightier</a> volunteered (multiple humans volunteered but random.org picked a couple + Hope always wins because she's Hope) to beta read to make sure the results weren't a badly-paced mess, and each one of them gets a heart: ❤️❤️❤️</p><p>I'm writing for the TV characterization, but I've decided that my written Aziraphale is visibly fat.  Tumblr and AO3 user Squeegeelicious has created <a href="https://ineffablefool.tumblr.com/post/189282541139/squeegeelicious-a-walk-to-the-ritz-for">this absolutely gorgeous artwork</a> for my first human AU <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/20936816">If Not Now, When</a>, which should help you know what to visualize as you read!</p><p>Title inspo: some lyrics of The Pogues' <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PSyL-TrD_2g">A Rainy Night In Soho</a> are awfully on the nose for Good Omens fanworks, tbh.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>As soon as Crowley saw them, the last few weeks made perfect sense.</p><p>Everything had been okay, mostly.  Aziraphale still said his name in the same old way, the way that sounded like <i>darling</i>, like <i>my only</i>, like <i>my love</i>.  He still kissed him with soul-rending gentleness, soft lips and tender sighs and the most beautiful fat arms holding him tight, keeping him close.</p><p>Crowley had read once that this was a hard time for a lot of marriages, some of the shiny wearing off after the first three or four years.  Hadn’t gotten any harder for him.  It was never perfect, but it was exactly what he wanted, because <i>Aziraphale</i> was what he wanted, was who he loved.  And Aziraphale still smiled and kissed him and said <i>I love you</i> just like he always had.</p><p>But there’d been a distance, too.  Literal, sometimes.  In the last seven days, he’d drifted off to sleep with his arm around Aziraphale’s waist exactly once.  Aziraphale had just... not wanted the contact, the other nights.</p><p>This evening, he wandered into the bedroom while Aziraphale was changing, just like he’d done a hundred times before.  And he saw them, in the moment before Aziraphale actually <i>covered</i> himself, as if he had ever felt the need to do that at <i>any</i> point since they were married.  And it all made sense.</p><p>“Crowley —”  Aziraphale pressed his arms more tightly against his own belly.  He had his pyjama bottoms on but nothing on top, and his pretty fatness was everywhere for what Crowley realized was the first time he’d seen in almost a month.  “I’m — I’m so sorry, dear, I should have shut the door...”  His lip trembled.  “I didn’t mean for you to...”</p><p>Crowley didn’t come any closer.  He just held his arms out.  “I love you, beautiful angel.  Love your new stretch marks, too.”</p><p>That was what had changed.  Not how Aziraphale felt about him, and damn well not how he felt about Aziraphale.  There were new stretch marks on Aziraphale’s belly, fresh pink skin standing out bright against all the faded old ones, and that was why he’d been hiding away.</p><p>They were so pretty.  How had Crowley not realized how pretty they’d be?  He’d only ever seen the dozens of faint lines that Aziraphale had always had, the ones his heart had long since memorized.  Every one of them was the most perfect thing on earth, because they made up his angel, curved and twined around all the parts of him that had grown, long ago, to contain exactly the man Crowley had married.</p><p>These new ones, cradling the sides of Aziraphale’s belly — Crowley loved them.  No question, no other possibility.  They showed where Aziraphale must have been changing, lately, round body getting just a little bit rounder.  And Aziraphale was always just right, automatically flawless just as he was.  Everything was part of that, from the spot on his head where his hair grew in funny to the crooked angles of his next-to-last toes — and the wide hang of his belly, with all the marks of its growth.</p><p>Paint strokes in a van Gogh.  The crucial details of a masterpiece.  They were beautiful.  He was <i>beautiful</i>.</p><p>Aziraphale’s face crumpled as soon as Crowley named them, though.  “Oh no,” he whispered, and his arms fell limply to his sides.  “I never wanted you to notice.”</p><p>Which would be ridiculous, except it wasn’t at all.  Nothing ridiculous about Aziraphale hurting.  About the way he hesitated before crossing the room.  The way he <i>flinched</i> when Crowley started to pull him close.</p><p>“G — green light,” he said before Crowley could ask, “please — I want so badly for you to hold me, if I’m not — if you don’t think I’m —”</p><p>He sobbed, utterly silent, but it shook him hard.</p><p>“...too <i>big</i>...”</p><p>“<i>Aziraphale</i>.”  Crowley gathered him up, all of him, forever precisely the right amount of him.  Held him as tight as he could.  “Never too big.  Yeah?  Never too fat.”  When another sob racked the soft body, Crowley had to blink away tears of his own.  “I <i>love</i> you.  Love you and choose you.  I’ll always choose you.”</p><p>Heavy arms trembled around his neck.  “Perhaps you don’t know what you’re choosing.  Perhaps —”</p><p>Aziraphale didn’t say anything more.  He buried his face against Crowley’s shoulder.</p><p>“Choosing the man who brought that grad student in the shop today <i>two</i> cups of tea. And <i>biscuits</i>.”  Crowley swayed them back and forth, just a bit, rubbing the soft-padded skin of Aziraphale’s back.  “Choosing the bastard who keeps buying tartan sheets for our bed.”</p><p>Aziraphale didn’t laugh at that, or make a smart remark, like he usually would.  He sighed, though.  Relaxed a little.  Not enough to lean his perfect weight onto Crowley, but a little.</p><p>“Choosing the only bookseller in Soho who gets pouty every time he has to sell a book, and choosing the only baker who makes that German cake thing<sup>[<a href="#note1-1" id="back1-1" name="back1-1">1</a>]</sup> just the way I like it.”  His hands wandered down Aziraphale’s back to where the adorable love handles wrapped around.  “Choosing the most beautiful man in the world.”</p><p>This sob wasn’t silent.</p><p>“Choosing the, the <i>exactly one unit</i> of Aziraphale that exists, right.  Always exactly one of you, and I <i>choose</i> you. I <i>do</i>.”</p><p>When Aziraphale raised his head, a couple of tears were trailing down his cheeks, escaped from his shimmering blue eyes.</p><p>“Are you sure?” he asked, voice barely above a whisper.</p><p>Crowley kissed the tears away first.  Then he pulled back — Aziraphale clung for a second before letting him go — until they could look at each other again.  They stood just far enough apart that Crowley’s body wasn’t touching Aziraphale’s at all.  His hands were, though.  Resting on Aziraphale’s sides, overflowing with softness, all spread fingers and reverent palms.</p><p>“Never surer,” he answered, holding Aziraphale’s eyes with his own.  “Would I lie to you?”</p><p>Aziraphale’s hands fluttered against his.  “Well... no.  You never have.  I just...”</p><p>It was an open question what the hands would do, whether they’d pull Crowley’s own hands away or not.  Fine regardless.  Aziraphale got to decide what happened next, because Crowley would give him whatever he wanted, even if right now that wound up being nothing at all.</p><p>Aziraphale breathed in.  Out.  Took Crowley’s hands and slid them to where the delicate lines trailed down from just under his chest.</p><p>When Crowley brushed his fingers down them, it <i>hurt</i>.  How could anyone stand loving this much?  How could anyone survive it?  Crowley wouldn’t survive it.  Not like this, with his gorgeous fat angel husband just shirtless like this, just <i>scandalous</i> with all his precious perfect fatness uncovered for anyone to see.</p><p>“D’you remember what I told you, first time I got to see you?”  He rubbed at one of the new marks with a careful thumb.  “Very first time.  When you gave me the — the privilege, the absolute fucking <i>gift</i> of letting me see all of you.”</p><p>Just a choked little sound as answer, and another tear down the soft hill of Aziraphale’s cheek.</p><p>“Told you I loved you.”  Crowley kissed that tear away too.  “Loved all of you.  Remember the limit I put on that?”</p><p>Aziraphale shook his head.  “You didn’t know, then, I’d been the same size for ages, I hadn’t —”</p><p>He bit his lips together for a second.  “I won’t blame you if you take it back, now.”</p><p>“Angel.  I never will.”  Crowley drew a fingertip down the channel of new pink skin again, then flattened out both his hands so they filled with beauty.  Warm belly curved into his palms, spread  between his fingers.  “You — you don’t have to believe me now.  But I’ll always love all of you.”</p><p>“No upper limit,” Aziraphale said, in the dead dry husk of a whisper.</p><p>“See?  You remember.”</p><p>Aziraphale covered his face with his hands.  When Crowley started to move his own hands away, though, Aziraphale made a protesting noise, shaking his head.  <i>Please don’t “not see” that part of me</i>, he might have said.  <i>Please don’t skip over it, please don’t pretend it’s not there.</i></p><p>Good thing Crowley loved it, then.  Good thing he’d gladly show his love for it with a million reverent touches.  With a billion trembling kisses.</p><p>“Told you something else, too,” he said.  He started circling his fingers against Aziraphale’s belly — finding the channels that ran through the smooth skin, rubbing them gently.  Aziraphale made another sound that wasn’t protesting at all.  “What I’d want to do if you ever had new stretch marks.”</p><p>Aziraphale lowered his hands, peeking up through the fingers.  His eyes were bright, and shy, and very very beautiful.</p><p>“You... you still would?”</p><p>All the love in the world flooded Crowley’s throat, trapping every possible response except a choked little “Please?”</p><p>When Aziraphale took his hands this time, it was to hold them, squeezing them tightly for a long moment, pressed against his own soft naked chest.  “I — I think I would like you to hold me tonight.  That is, if you’re —”  He huffed a tiny laugh.  “You are willing, aren’t you.  You’re always — it doesn’t make any <i>sense</i>, but you’ve always...”</p><p>Crowley nodded.  Shook his head.  “Not <i>willing</i>.  Wrong word.  It’s...”  Still too much love in his throat, too many jammed-up words.  <i>Looking at you is a privilege and touching you is a dream and holding your belly, your fat yes-I-see-it belly, is a dream where I’m <b>flying</b>, and you’re the sun, you’re the round glorious sun, and if I fly too close I might die but I know I’ll die if I have to stay away</i> — no.  His tongue wasn’t made to let those words come out.  Be all mumbled vowels if he tried.</p><p>“<i>Want</i> to,” he said. "Don’t want to <i>stop</i>.”</p><p>When Aziraphale finally smiled, it was a small thing, and didn’t last long.  But he did smile.</p><p>“I’m gonna get ready for bed.  K?”  Crowley kissed the sweet roundness beneath Aziraphale’s jaw.  “And then I’m gonna make sure your pretty new stretch marks know just how loved they are.  And then we’re gonna sleep.  With these —” he grinned and hoisted an eyebrow, flexing his hands against Aziraphale’s grip — “pawing you as much as you’ll let me get away with.”</p><p>“You make it sound so untoward,” Aziraphale said disapprovingly.  His face brightened a little, though.  His hands dropped to his belly as Crowley pulled away, not to cover it, but just to rest against it.</p><p>It didn’t seem that different, really, other than the pretty new lines sweeping down the sides.  Maybe a little more of a curve here, a slight widening of the love handles there.  Crowley would have to do a much more thorough examination to be sure, of course, really get up close and personal with his eyes and hands on every adorable inch; and then the thing about science was that it was repeatable, so obviously he’d have to do it again, and maybe a third time just to be sure —</p><p>“Good lord,” Aziraphale said shakily.  “How you <i>love</i> me.”</p><p>Crowley sighed past the glow in his chest, the warmth in his face.  “Uh-huh.”</p><p>He quit staring long enough to dress and floss and all the rest of it.  When he came back, Aziraphale was sitting against the pillows, reading.  Still shirtless.</p><p>“Book later,” Crowley said, clambering across the bed to join him.  “Kisses for angels now.”</p><p>He could see the faint blush start over Aziraphale’s cheeks, see it spread down his rounded chest, as the book was set aside. Aziraphale’s now-empty hands jittered, clasping themselves against his belly, then separating again to lie stiffly by his sides.</p><p>Crowley kissed him on the forehead, and he relaxed the tiniest bit.</p><p>“Angels get kisses,” Crowley informed him, “because they are beautiful and I love them.”  He applied his lips to Aziraphale’s nose next.  “And because they’re good and important.  And I’m glad they’re in the world.”  A quick peck against Aziraphale’s lips, which became a second, slightly longer kiss when he couldn’t make himself stop at just the one.  “With me so far?”</p><p>Aziraphale’s blush wasn’t fading.  “Y-yes.”</p><p>“K.”  The next two kisses were for chins.  “Something else that’s beautiful.  That I love.  And that’s, that’s good.  Good and important.”</p><p>He kissed Aziraphale’s chest, right over his heart.  Soft skin and softer fat beneath and under that the beating thing that he’d fight an army to keep.  Fight God himself if he existed.</p><p>“Something else I’m glad is in the world.”</p><p>Aziraphale just looked at him.  His sweet pink lips were bitten down to a thin line, eyes full of tears again.  Wide and shimmering as he waited.</p><p>Crowley picked the biggest of them first.  Just a pretty ribbon of new skin, showing where there was more of Aziraphale now.  <i>Not enough of him yet</i>, the universe had said.  <i>Crowley’s still being selfish, still keeping the most divine creature in existence to himself.  Maybe he’ll share this new bit.</i></p><p>Never.  Exactly one of Aziraphale, no matter what he weighed, and Crowley would always hold all of him as long as he had the privilege.</p><p>“Hi, you lovely new thing.”  He stroked careful fingers down the stretch mark.  “Welcome to my husband’s perfect body.”</p><p>“<i>Oh</i>,” Aziraphale said quietly.</p><p>“Welcome home.”</p><p>Aziraphale’s skin yielded gently beneath his lips, and all the flesh beneath that, soft and flawless.  Something in Crowley’s chest unfurled, a dizzying sensation of falling and flying and being right where he belonged, all at once.  Same as every time.  Luckiest man in history, the man who got to kiss Aziraphale’s belly.</p><p>The next mark was short, not quite as wide as the last one, and Crowley checked for a nod before tracing it with a thumb.  “You too.  Welcome home.”</p><p>There was a long, wandering mark that he decided needed two kisses, and another shorter one, and one that branched into three before fading away.  Important work, making sure he’d gotten them all.  Vital work.  But they needed to know they were wanted.  New rivers through the map of Aziraphale, named and charted and seen.</p><p>When he nuzzled into the pillows next to him, he was greeted with a smile.  Still just a little one, but there were no more tears to go with it.</p><p>“Thanks,” he said, finding Aziraphale’s hand and tucking his into it.  “You let me see you.  I love seeing you.”</p><p>“I love <i>you</i>,” Aziraphale murmured.  “I’m sorry for hiding —”</p><p>Crowley squeezed his hand.  “Nope, none of that.  Only you have the right to your body.  For the rest of us, ‘s a privilege.”</p><p>Faint pink touched Aziraphale’s cheeks.  “You called it a gift, earlier.”</p><p>“Oh, angel, you’re <i>Christmas</i>.”  Crowley found himself grinning, couldn’t help it, as he wriggled around till he was propped on Aziraphale’s chest.  Arms crossed, chin resting on them, beaming down at that adorably round face.  “Christmas and my birthday, all in one.  And you’re already unwrapped.”</p><p>Aziraphale glanced shyly away, at first, and Crowley figured that’d been too much just yet.  Then careful arms curled around him.</p><p>“Would you please kiss me, Crowley?”</p><p>Crowley would.  Crowley did, of course he did, sliding his hands into Aziraphale’s hair.  Aziraphale’s soft lips opened sweetly beneath his, and Crowley kissed him exactly as if he was the most beautiful man in the universe.</p><p>When he thought he’d made his point, he lay down next to Aziraphale again.  “Like to hold you now, if you want.  I mean.  I’d always like to hold you.  But y’know.”</p><p>“And you’re... you’re certain I’m not too...”</p><p>Aziraphale trailed off, just looking at him across the pillows.  Maybe he couldn’t bring himself to say it.  That was okay.</p><p>“Look, here’s the thing.”  Crowley stroked his palm over Aziraphale’s padded shoulder, down to his rounded chest.  “Remember when we watched <i>Invasion Of The Body Snatchers</i>?”</p><p>The searching look vanished into confusion.  “I’m... not sure I’m following, but... yes?”</p><p>“If I ever...”  He rubbed gently at Aziraphale’s chest.  “Ever...”  Brought his hand above Aziraphale’s belly, not lowering it until he saw a sparkling-eyed little nod.  “Ever give you <i>any</i> impression that you’re too fat.  That this is too big.”  He rubbed his hand against that perfect mound of softness, slow and gentle, feeling love fill his chest and throat with aching light.  “D’you know what that means?”</p><p>Aziraphale’s voice was barely a whisper.  “What?”</p><p>“Means it’s not really me.”  His fingers bumped over those pretty pink stretch marks again.  “‘S how you know it’s a pod person.”</p><p>Aziraphale laughed.  The sound of it pinged off Crowley’s heart, off his liver and lungs and the weird little squiggle of his appendix.  It went on, as he rolled over, curling into place with his back facing Crowley.</p><p>Then the laugh faded into a watery sigh.  “I wish I could accept it like you do.  I’d gotten used to it before, but...”</p><p>“I’ll love your fatness even when you can’t, angel.”  Crowley snuggled up tight against his back.  “Love it enough for both of us.  For a dozen of us, if we’re being honest.  Until you can too.”</p><p>He wrapped an arm around Aziraphale’s waist, around the belly shifted by gravity into wonderful new shapes.  He loved all the shapes, though.  All the round things.</p><p>Aziraphale shifted beneath him.  Stretched out to switch off the light.</p><p>When he breathed in deep, Crowley breathed along with him.</p><p>“I’m so glad you chose me,” Aziraphale murmured into the darkness.  “All the people in the world, any of them could have loved you, but — but you chose me.”</p><p>Crowley squeezed him, smiling past the lump in his throat.  “Did.  Still do.  Can I pre-choose for tomorrow?  Because I’ll choose you tomorrow, too.”</p><p>Aziraphale chuckled.  “You absolute dear.”</p><p>They were silent, for a while, except for the sound of breathing.  The random gurgle of Crowley’s stomach, doing stomach things, and the occasional rustle of sheets.</p><p>Crowley’s mouth opened on its own.  “Whatever you are is — is everything I want.  Always.  Do you know that?”</p><p>He almost wondered if Aziraphale was asleep, the answering silence spun out for so long.  Then there was a noise.  Maybe a tiny sob.  Maybe a sigh.</p><p>“Thank goodness,” Aziraphale said, very softly.  “Then it’s mutual.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p><a id="note1-1" name="note1-1"></a>1. Crowley can definitely not remember “Schwarzwälder Kirschtorte”. <sup>[<a href="#back1-1">return to text</a>]</sup><br/></p><hr/><p>Thank you for reading!  If you were thinking of leaving a comment, please know that I am frequently behind on answering, but that I always treasure every single one.  I've literally cried a few times reading some of the lovely things people have said, and they really are fuel for my soft little heart -- but never, ever required, so please don't feel pressured. </p><p>If you want to say hi on Tumblr, I'm <a href="https://ineffablefool.tumblr.com">ineffablefool</a> there, too.</p><p>I would never actively request art from anyone I wasn't paying, but if you, the human reading this, were to decide it was worth your time to create fanart based on any of my stories, I would be incredibly honored (<a href="https://ineffablefool.tumblr.com/tagged/ineffablefool-gets-fanart-from-lovely-people">and would love to enshrine it forever on my Tumblr</a>)!  I have only one requirement: please don't draw Aziraphale any thinner than the size I headcanon (I need both my soft cuddly daydreams, and my positive fat representation).  Here are some examples of what that sort of minimum body size/shape might look like: (<a href="https://ineffablefool.tumblr.com/post/189282541139/squeegeelicious-a-walk-to-the-ritz-for">beautiful fanart created for me by Squeegeelicious</a>) (<a href="https://speremint.tumblr.com/post/186342035100/i-did-this-instead-of-my-hw-ya-girl-is-gonna">speremint 1</a>) (<a href="https://speremint.tumblr.com/post/186574829700/finally-finally-done-making-these-refs-my">speremint 2 from her Reversed Omens AU</a>) (<a href="https://dotstronaut.tumblr.com/post/186740069618/no-really-i-dont-think-you-all-understand-how">dotstronaut</a>)  Otherwise, the characters can look however you like!</p><p>I hope you're having a fantastic day.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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